


Maybe I Do

by Queer_Screams



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, based off of LIES but worth it, but mostly just porn, mentions of steve/bucky and possible sam/riley, questionable historical accuracy, there's like a pinch of angst maybe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2014-06-06
Packaged: 2018-02-03 16:13:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1750745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queer_Screams/pseuds/Queer_Screams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boner: n, Informal. A blunder or an error. Or, as the internet kindly informed Steve after the incident in which Iron Man almost died choking on his orange juice, Boner: n. Vulgar slang. An erection of the penis. Goddamn everything in the 21st century was about penises.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe I Do

When Steve said that he'd been spending a lot of time on the internet, he hadn't been lying. His google searches must've been hilarious, the way that he followed every question he could think of, starting with general world history and soon splintering into more and more obscure subjects.

It didn't take him that long to notice that the way people talked had changed. _A lot._

For instance, _Boner: n, Informal_. A blunder or an error. Or, as the internet kindly informed him after the incident in which Iron Man almost died choking on his orange juice, _Boner: n. Vulgar slang. An erection of the penis_. Goddamn everything in the 21st century was about penises.

Sometimes Steve dropped in a little old-fashioned 30s slang just because it amused the hell out of the other Avengers. Sometimes because no other words could quite capture what he was trying to say. Sometimes for the way the press gobbled it up. Sometimes because it was just how he wanted to talk, it was what sounded like Steve Rogers.

And sometimes, it was the middle of the night, and he'd just woken up, and his what-will-this-sound-like-to-my-friends filter hadn't quite kicked in.

"You really don't have to stay up with me when I get like this," Sam insisted, but the grateful look he had on his face said otherwise.

"I know what it's like," Steve said, and sighed. "Not sure I could sleep, myself."

Apparently, their madcap search around the world on BuckyWatch had raised a few ghosts they both thought they'd put to rest. Sam more so, who had believed he'd been moving on on for longer than Steve ever had. Bucky was the kind of ghost you could touch, see, fight. Riley, not so much. Steve knew the nightmares were getting worse, could see the fracture widening with every blow Sam delivered.

They were determined though, pushing forward, and slowly learning how to have a partner again. Even if that meant nights sitting across small motel tables from each other, not saying much, just nursing cups of tea and knowing the other was there.

"Well, thanks," Sam said, kicking back onto the back legs of his chair with a slight groan. They'd had a few days of laying low recently, and his body ached in that way it only did when it had time to catch up to him. "I just don't know what to do, man," he confided. "I'm so wound up. It's not like being in the field is all that great, and I know it's _doing stuff t_ o me, and I don't like it, but-"

"-but at least it feels like you're doing something," Steve finished. "I know." He couldn't just put himself in Sam's shoes and expect everything to line up, but he _did_ believe his best friend was dead once. He remembers things. Plus, he wasn't entirely positive that was all Riley was to Sam. Just like he's not sure that was all Bucky was-or even is- to him. "Look, can I give you some sold dick?" he asks, and _the_ _ _look__ _on Sam's face._ It was almost indescribable. Like someone hit him in the face with a frying pan while he was trying not to sneeze and also translating an important message in a language he suddenly couldn't remember. And like that entire scenario was incredibly hilarious.

Steve realized almost immediately what he'd said, what the phrase __solid dick__ would most likely turn up if he added it to his prolific google history, and immediately doubled up in laughter.

Sam let out a shout of laughter as well, his chair thudding back to all fours. " _ _What__ did you just say to me?" Sam managed to choke out.

"It means," Steve gasped, "advice."

Sam just laughed harder. They stayed like that for minutes, as tears started to gather in the corners of Sam's eyes and Steve failed several times to get himself under control. Every time he thought he thought he was getting over it, he remembered the words spilling out of his mouth, or he looked up at Sam, and their eyes met, and they'd lose it again.

"Why the fuck does it mean that?" Sam eventually asked. He clutched his side, panting. "I can't breathe." He added a moment later.

Steve smiled back at the wide grin on Sam's face. "I honestly have no idea."

"Damn, Cap, you sure are full of surprises," Sam joked. "For a second I thought you were suggesting you do me instead of sleeping."

"Yeah, well, that would probably do the trick," Steve said, raising an eyebrow. "I _was_ gonna suggest you get out of the motel, go for a run or something, stretch your legs. But that could work too."

Sam laughed, surprised. Steve knew he had grown up with Captain America comic books, knew the man wasn't immune to the occasional shock when Steve digressed from the boy scout image the public was used to. It was a bit fun, reminding people that he was a _soldier in these little, dirty ways._

"Oh yeah, _Captain America's Cure-All Solid Dick_ ," Sam said, not even attempting to keep a straight face. "I forgot about that part of the legacy."

"It's too powerful. We had to keep it under wraps," Steve retorted. The double entendre was not lost on either of them, and they spent some time giggling like children before Sam looked up, a teasing glint in his eye.

"I'd like to see you try." Sam said.

"Oh would you?" Steve asked in response.

There was a short, tense pause, where the both of them seemed to realize the territory they'd walked into.

"Dude," Sam laughed, muted. "I think it's time for me to go to bed." He stood up, and picked their mugs off the table, but his hand was shaking slightly, and of course Steve noticed even though Sam was moving faster than usual, trying to conceal it.

Steve grabbed Sam's hand before he could turn away. "All joking aside..." he started, and again, the look on Sam's face was priceless. This time it was less amused, a bit scared, and- a bit hopeful.

"Really?" Was all he asked. His body shifted just a bit closer, and his grip on their empty mugs of tea slackened.

So Steve just decided to go for it. He closed the gap between them, one hand grabbing Sam's shoulder and the other going straight to his neck, pulling them together until they were almost kissing, their foreheads pressed together, their noses bumping each other, their warm breaths mingling.

"If you want," Steve said, still not quite sure what they were doing, still wanting to give Sam an out.

"Dumbass, of course I want." Sam replied, and kissed him.

Even with all the build-up it still caught Steve unawares, still almost knocked him over the way Sam's lips were hot and insistent on his, the way their bodies seemed to slot together as their grips tightened. He deepened the kiss, slid his tongue into Sam's mouth and stumbled towards Sam's bed. Sam broke apart as his legs hit the bed.

"Why the hell weren't we doing this earlier?" He asked, grinning.

"Beats me," Steve replied, before kissing Sam again, using his height to his advantage. He pressed Sam to the bed, first sitting, until they were both lying down, Steve ever so slightly above Sam. He overlapped him. His weight pressed slightly at Sam's body, and Sam moaned at the contact, shifted his hips for a better angle. They lost themselves in the kissing, their bodies straining towards each other, their mouths parting briefly to pant at necks or temples or ears before returning to each other. Steve couldn't keep his hands off of Sam's chest, pushing his t-shirt up as his hands moved in the same direction, over soft skin and tough muscle and a few raised scars. Sam, however, seemed pulled to Steve's ass, grinding them together while making a groaning sound that was entirely obscene- and Steve echoed the sound almost immediately, their dicks dragging against each other and making him thrust against Sam unintentionally.

"You trying to tire me out without getting your hands dirty, Cap?" Sam asked, biting at Steve's earlobe.

"But that's the best part," Steve replied, grinning. "Why would I try to get out of that?"

Without hesitation he undid the front of Sam's jeans, yanking them just low enough on his hips to reveal the shape of his dick, hard and straining agains his boxer briefs. Steve palmed Sam's cock, biting his lip as he felt the slight dampness in the fabric, smelling pre-come and sweat. Sam arched into his hand.

"You're trying to distract me," Sam added after a moment of gathering his focus, breathing shallowly. He reached over, fumbled at the drawstring of Steve's sweatpants, pushed them down. He laughed. "Captain America goes commando," he said. "I never would've guessed."

"It's more comfortable," Steve shrugged.

"And more convenient," Sam added with a wink- an actual wink, the asshole- before licking a stripe across his hand and wrapping his fingers around Steve's cock.

Steve shuddered at the hot, pressure around his dick, and returned the favor, relishing the sigh Sam made as his cock was released from his boxers, thrusting into the circle of Steve's hand.

"Closer," Sam muttered, and shifted on the bed. The heads of their dicks grazed each other, and Steve inhaled, seeing stars. He opened his hand until it was wrapped loosely around the two of them, slid their lengths together, rearranged Sam's hand until they were partially entwined, until they were both thrusting into the hot, slick heat of each other, thighs stuck together. Steve kissed Sam hard, and Sam bit at Steve's tongue, and their pace increased until Sam couldn't keep going, his head falling back as Steve moved for him, and the sensation overwhelmed them.

"Sam," Steve groaned. He was staring at Sam's neck, wanted to bend over and bite it but couldn't without slowing his hand, and Sam's leg's were starting so shake, so clearly that wasn't an option.

"Fuck, Steve," Sam moaned back, his eyes shut, body taught. "Gonna come, you're gonna make me-" and he groaned deeply, come spurt between their fingers, his body twitched and his grip tightened around their dicks. He gasped, oversensitive, and it all threw Steve over the edge, his vision gone white as all he could feel was their hands, and Sam's cock throbbing against Steve's, and energy pulsing between them.

Eventually his body relaxed, and Sam pulled their hands away, which made them both twitch slightly before they fell to their backs.

"I'm exhausted," Sam admitted as his breath slowed. He laughed. "You win."

"Mmm, me too," Steve muttered. He flopped an arm onto Sam's chest, which was an awful idea, as it was splattered in come. He groaned. "I'll be back," he said as he rose from the bed and made his way to the bathroom.

"I'm gonna fall asleep," Sam called from the other room.

"That was the point," Steve called over his shoulder. He was back a moment later with a warm, wet washcloth, already cleaned up, his pants pulled back up and his shirt pulled off after he'd determined there was no saving it.

Sam's eyes were closed and his breathing heavy, but at least he was splayed across the bed on his back, which meant Steve had an easy enough time cleaning him up.

It was harder to get him to pull on his boxers, kicking his jeans to the floor, and to get under the covers, but eventually they succeeded.

"Thanks," Sam murmured, as Steve slid his arms around him, holding him loosely and naturally.

"My pleasure," Steve replied, and kissed Sam gently on the temple.

"Solid dick," Sam laughed, and Steve laughed with him.

"Damn straight." He muttered, the last words they heard before drifting off to sleep.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this post](http://febricant.tumblr.com/post/87543071542/quillotine-febricant), which was photoshopped but I don't care. I don't even care if "solid dick" never meant advice. This fic is an AU where it makes sense.
> 
> You can find me (and the original, 3am, un-edited version of this if you look hard enough) on tumblr [here](http://lanilanimcu.tumblr.com/).


End file.
